


Be Still in My Heart

by DarkmoonBoar



Series: Tumblr Dark Souls 3 Drabbles [1]
Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls III
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 04:31:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11410272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkmoonBoar/pseuds/DarkmoonBoar
Summary: After making it to Irithyll, the newly initiated Blade Adrian can't move on from the disappearance of his first love.





	Be Still in My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Taken from my RP blog on tumblr

With a shaky sigh, the lonely Blade climbed into his bed in Anor Londo. Though he had the sense to take off his boots, he felt far too exhausted to take off his assassin leathers. Instead of letting his bare feet hang over the edges of the bed, Adrian curled up on his side. He faced the other side of the bed, empty and cold. As he closed his leaden eyelids, he threw the warm winter blanket over herself. As the tension of the day slowly releases through his feet, he wills himself to happier days, those few years he actually felt like a human being.

And images there is a warm weight beside him, staring at him with sleepy but adoring eyes.

Even before his exile, he told himself men like him didn’t deserve to be loved unconditionally. His parents taught him it, the school taught him it, his bedpartners taught him it. Everything had been such a damn disappointment to him, including himself. The first death taught him to be more cautious, and the second death taught him he could trust no one. After all he had been through, he had convinced himself he had nothing left in him. After all the bedmates who assumed they could just tell who he was from his uniform, to his father murdering him in cold blood. And who could blame him? Dragon School tried to kill what had been there.

Then why did it hurt so much when the first man he ever loved just… disappeared? A cold killer wasn’t supposed to feel this way, he told himself. Wasn’t that what he had been, all those years? Those years of traveling across the kingdom of Lothric, caring not what he killed? Killing for the sake of it as if those bodies would keep him company? Never feeling for his marks, never feeling more than lust for the men he had lain with?

His hand reaches out to the empty space beside him as though he could change the past. Prevent him from leaving. As if he could draw him close, hold the broader but shorter man. As if he could run it through his shorter hair and down the curvature of his neck. Swallowing thickly, he pictures how those hands would feel like wound around his neck. What they must have been like beneath those gauntlets. If they’d stroke the side of his face tenderly, even if they might be calloused from handling that sword. He thought what it would be like to bury his nose in the crook of his neck, what that would smell like. If those fingers would wind in his hair and gently play with it.

Yes, that’s what he wanted. He wanted to feel alive again, instead of dead and despondent. A reminder that he could be more than just a killer, just a weapon to be aimed at another person and slice slice.

Tears began to roll down his cheeks as he grabbed and held it close.

He remembered the timbre of the man’s laughter, how it started out sardonic and cynical at first. How he got him to genuinely laugh the first time. How rich and melodic it sounded. It had him totally breathless and red, and after, he gave Adrian the brightest and warmest smile he had ever seen. Like the man hadn’t smiled in years. It stabbed him through the heart, but in the least painful way. It made him feel _alive_ and _worthy_. And those eyes, those eyes send shock waves down his spine as their eyes met in a way they hadn’t met before.

Someone found him _worthy_ , more than just piss and vinegar. More than just a monster. Something more than just a pretty face and a pretty body. It made him feel like a boy again, back when he was still pure, back when anger hadn’t tainted him. Back when the world held such wonder. Those years of knowing him had somehow began to heal the closely guarded self-loathing that laid beneath the surface for years. And yet, it wasn’t enough, because despite all his previous confidence and bravado, he couldn’t bring himself to tell him.

Because a wretch like him didn’t deserve someone capable of seeing him as human.

And then he was gone.

Clutching the pillow as tightly as he could, the former assassin wept in his regret. He had been too late. Oh, wasn’t that funny? Too late to find love, too late to find Irithyll before Sulyvahn had sullied it, too late to find the Dark Sun alive. Too late too late too late. And the most cruel of all, as time passed on, his memories of the man began to fade. Not completely, but the details lost their clarity. He could remember his favorite moments between them, but they all mattered to him.

_Please time, don’t take this away from me._

Eventually, Adrian tired himself out from crying, and fell into a deep slumber. As he still cuddled the pillow, all his anguished daydreaming of better times and what the present could be like leaked into his dreams. Bittersweet, it had Anor Londo in light instead of in constant twilight. He could hear the movement of people all around them, from guards doing rounds to the faithful praying. At the end of the bed, three dogs, a white one, gray one, and black one rested. And beside him, his unnamed lover smiled as he nuzzled Adrian’s neck. His breath was so warm against his skin, and he whispered I love you into his ears.

He… they were happy.

The Blade woke up with the pillow still plastered to his chest, arms still wound around it like slipping treasure.


End file.
